My Choices, My Business, Not Yours

Have you ever had people in your life that you can only have certain conversations with? I have a few of those people in my life… some are not in my life anymore because of this. I find it difficult to have relationships with people who I feel like I can’t be myself around; I have to censor what I say or the topics I talk about. I have one friend I CHOOSE not to talk about The Handsome One (T.H.O.) to because I know they are disapproving of interracial relationships. I can’t talk to some people about the gym or a way of eating. I can only talk to certain people about my intuition. I have to remember what I can say to which people. It’s easier to not have to worry about this but it’s not worth being friendless so I don’t really think about it too much. Recently I had an experience with a friend and it triggered all of this.

I had mentioned that I was going to the gym and my timing on the bike was improving. I’m really proud of myself and I felt like I could talk about it with this person. This person’s reaction was nothing I was expecting. If you know me, you know I’m not someone who fishes for compliments. I was expecting an “oh that’s good,” reaction. Something simple and vague that at least acknowledges I was speaking about something. Instead, this person said, “So you’re trying to get back in shape?” I was a bit thrown off by this because I have never been in shape… unless round is a shape. I asked what they meant because I have never been in shape to get back to it. They mentioned that I was more in shape before the wedding and after that I stopped caring. I knew in this moment I could no longer talk to this person about my weight or diet or anything to do with my health. I don’t think they meant it to be rude by any means but it didn’t feel good. Why? I told them I wrote a blog about that issue after the wedding and this person is also totally not interested in my blog so it was a wave of the hand to that comment. I felt totally disregarded. I didn’t even know what to say. It’s not like I’ve gained 25 pounds since September.

It wasn’t until the next morning I was able to put the pieces together… kind of. I was texting T.H.O. about it. I realized I felt defensive and ashamed. Why? This person’s statement wasn’t untrue. I wrote in a blog that it was a struggle for me after I met the goal of the dress for the wedding. Why did it bother me so much for someone to say it? Maybe because it wasn’t a welcomed comment? I felt defensive because I was put on blast as if I didn’t already know it. I felt shame because… I still don’t know… maybe it’s embarrassment? I don’t know. It really bothers me though because I don’t need someone telling me that I stopped caring about what I ate. I ALREADY KNOW THAT. No one wants to be told, “You lost control of your diet. You turned into a fatass. Time to get back on track.” When you’ve had problems with your weight for your whole life, any comment about anything related to weight loss can trigger this feeling if it isn’t initiated by the overweight person or with a person they’re comfortable with. I felt like I had to defend myself, I had to explain myself. TO WHO!!?? No freaking way. I don’t have to explain my choices to ANYONE so I stopped talking about it. It’s no one’s business what I choose to eat and when. If I want to stop eating effing salad two times a day, that’s my choice. If I wanted to stop eating well so I could enjoy the holidays, MY CHOICE. If I want to eat a tub of ice cream at midnight and then go right to bed, that’s MY CHOICE. Don’t you DARE judge me for that. That’s what this person did. I felt judged for a choice I made in my life. If I have a handful of almonds and then two tiny snickers don’t look at me with judgment in your eyes thinking, “I don’t know how you plan to lose weight eating like that.” Mind your own business.

Now onto what I’m super pumped about, the gym. WHAT?! Yeah, I. Just. Said. That. I started on the treadmill a few weeks ago and I felt like it was total torture. One day I was feeling super lazy so I thought I’ll get on a bike. I could text, watch youtube, check Facebook, watch tv… so much easier. I was in heaven. This is how my progress has gone:

• December 19: 7 miles in 56 minutes (8:01 mile). I didn’t feel well I really was pushing myself.
• December 23: 9 miles in 57 minutes (6:20 mile). I set a goal to ride 8 miles in 45 minutes or 10 in an hour. I hit 9 miles and called it for the night since I knew I wouldn’t hit 10 miles.
• December 27: 10.01 miles in 60 minutes (6:00 mile) I was determined to do 10 miles in an hour. I hit 10 miles with 6 seconds left.
• January 3: 11.22 miles in 1:00:20 (5:23 mile) I’m pumped my minute times are falling drastically and I keep adding mileage
• January 5: 5.31 miles in 28:24 (5:21 mile) I started on the elliptical and did a 13:25 minute mile. I wanted to go home.
• January 7: 13.51 miles in 1:02:00 (4:35 mile) WHAT?! I was texting T.H.O. updates on my miles as I knocked them out. I was sooo excited!
• January 9: 14 miles in 1:03:00 (4:30 mile) satisfactory performance.

This is literally all of my gym activity since I started going. You can see in 7 visits, I cut my time almost in half. I don’t know what my plan is. I want to start running and I know it will be like starting over but I see these results and I think if I could do this in 7 visits, how hard can it be to run on a treadmill? My breathing was the issue when I would run. Bestie taught me some key elements and I had to really think about it to make sure I was doing it right. On the bike I still have to think about it but the exercise doesn’t feel like torture so I’m more likely to stick it out. The other thing I changed was my music. It’s amazing how it’s so much easier with the right music. So a few more times on the bike I feel like I’ll be ready to move on… trade up. We’ll see how ambitious I feel next week. Anyone have any advice? Suggestions? Support? I know I have several athletic readers… triathletes, marathoners… I feel like I was born to run… and by jingo, I’m going to run.

Back in the saddle and ready to go.

I know you all missed me during the holidays. Happy New Year! I hope you all had an enjoyable holiday season! It flew by for me and it’s hard to believe how quickly it went.

The holidays were full of changes this year as my parents recently divorced and there are more people being welcomed into the family since this happened. For me it was nice to share the love of the season with more people. Since you’re sharing love, why not eat some food while you’re at it… right? Yeeaahhh… we’ll get to this in a bit.

I found out this weekend about a new family reader I have. Can I say, I love my readers, first of all, but I really love the secret readers. It warms my heart to know who is reading. Some of the most unexpected people read and I can’t express my gratitude enough. I don’t write short blogs so I know you have to really want to know what I’m saying to stick around and subscribe or admit you read it. I LOVE YOU! Seriously.

This secret reader family member asked my mom how I actually write my blogs. Since I am inspired by the interest, I will answer this question!

I never thought about a writing style until she asked me. I know how I write. I wasn’t taught how to write, really. I mean we learned a certain amount in high school but nothing in depth. Writing has always come very easily for me, much easier than speaking. I thought about getting an app to speak my blogs to so the app will write it, but I stumble over everything. It feels very awkward to me.

What I do is I make a list of points I want to discuss in a blog. Then I write about it. I don’t make a list and elaborate on it then write. I literally make a bullet list and go. Here is the list for this blog:

• Weight loss goals 25 by 3.28.13. 35 by 6.1.13
• Holiday eating
• Last year at this time – the dress
• Lost my motivation after the goal was reached
• How I write my blogs – new readers

That’s as simple as it is. I take topics in the order I wish to write them and I just start typing. It’s like my brain knows exactly what to say. When I’m done with a topic I will go back and proof read the section to make sure it sounds good and makes sense. I make my changes and I move on to the next topic. Then when I’m done, I read it in its entirety. I don’t do a lot of editing because I’m practically perfect as it is… BAHAHAHA… not… I don’t edit a lot because this is meant to be me. This is raw footage. It’s the good stuff. There are plenty of blogs that are covered in sugar and spice and everything nice but that’s not who I am and that’s not how I write, as I’m sure my regulars know. That’s why you read it. I appreciate that! My uncle told me last year that I write like I am speaking to you. This is exactly what it is. If I was going to sit and have a conversation with you, this is exactly what I would say. It’s me. =)

As many of you know I was Bestie’s maid of honor in September. Here are my two favorite pictures from the wedding and a couple more. She told me the other day how beautiful I looked and I told her I hated how I was spilling out of the dress. She insisted I looked great.

All of us

My favorite #1

My fav #2

I just thought… when I got that dress the zipper would not move. I was determined to make it fit and I did and I didn’t bust out of it. I didn’t rip any seams. I may have spilled over a little (or a lot) but that damn thing zipped and I hit that goal. There are two topics here. Last year at this time and losing the motivation after the goal was reached.

First of all, last year at this time I had just ordered the dress after speaking with someone at David’s and trying to figure out what size to order. I was a size 20 and about 250-260 pounds. I knew I did NOT want to be a 20 in the wedding pictures. I was a size 22 for Aaron’s wedding and I am disgusted with the way I look in those pictures. I was terrified to order this dress. It was being discontinued. I couldn’t get another one if it didn’t work. I wasn’t going to be a 20, that’s all I knew. I remember in January I told myself I couldn’t fail. “This is your best friend’s wedding. You will not be a whale and you will wear the dress you bought!” I was determined.

I think it was in July where I hit my lowest weight, most weight lost, 87 pounds. I became very emotional after my parent’s divorce and found myself beginning to emotionally eat more and more. As I dealt with that struggle, I knew in the back of my mind I had to stay in check because that dress zipped and I had to make sure it still zipped in September. I gained about 5 pounds; just enough to make it a challenge to zip that damn dress… I knew I had to maintain if I couldn’t keep losing… I did just this through the wedding day.

You would think there was a switch on my life. As soon as the wedding was over, I stopped being such a nazi about my food intake. I did the same thing the year before. I remember saying I jumped off the wagon in October for the holidays and in January I started right back up. I’m doing the same thing this year. After the wedding I really struggled with the fact I met my goal. Now you say, “how do you STRUGGLE with meeting a goal?!” I didn’t have anything to motivate me to keep going. Some of you now say, “Why do you need motivation to keep going? Just do it.” It just is not that simple. I need that carrot in front of me to keep this up. It’s much more fun to eat cake and red meat and drink egg nog all the time. Much less fun to eat like a rabbit… at least for me it is.

Yes, in the big picture my health should be my main motivator, and it is, but I hit a wall and I wanted to ENJOY the holidays. So I did. I don’t feel guilty. I don’t feel like I robbed myself of anything. I may have back peddled a little bit, but nothing too terrible. I know what I’m doing and I know how to get back on track. It was very difficult after the wedding with no goal in sight. I’m VERY proud of what I did and I now have a new goal in site. Big picture: I’m still down 75 pounds. BOOM! Can’t take that away from me!

This is NOT a New Year’s resolution. I hate that crap. You set yourself up for failure. So many people set unrealistic goals and then are depressed when they don’t or can’t reach it. Here are my goals.

I want to lose 25 pounds by March 28, 2013. What is the significance of this? In about 25 pounds I will have lost 100 pounds from my heaviest weight. March 28, 2013 is my 10,000^th day of life. I will be 10,000 days old and I just think that’s a cool goal to have. 100 pounds for 10,000 days.

I want to lose a total of 35 pounds by June 1, 2013. When I hit this goal I will explain it. The date has no relevance.

So now that I have publicly stated it, I must do it, right? Yup. You bet I will. I will have more experiences and stories to tell as time goes on, so I will be writing again.

Feel free to ask questions or comment. It’s always welcome. Thanks for reading!!

PS: Things are going very well with the boyfriend, who I will call “The Handsome One” until he tells me otherwise. He’s on this journey with me now so we’ll see how it goes!

Losing more toxicity and gaining more love.

It’s been almost a month since I have written and I can’t believe how quickly it has gone.

The new relationship is going very well. Like I told Mom last night, we have gone from seeing each other maybe 5 times in the last 4 years to being nearly inseparable. It’s all more than I could have ever asked for and I tell him on a daily basis how happy/ blessed/ lucky I am to have him in my life. I’m a very happy girl.

I write with a heavy heart today as I feel like I have let another friend go. Whether this friend is a reader of my blog or not, I don’t know, but as always, when writing about specific people in my blog, names will not be used and whether or not you see this, this is my blog, my thoughts, my revaltions, my words, my feelings, my views, my opinion. If you don’t like it, the truth hurts. The pain from the truth inspires change.

I hadn’t spoken with this friend over the course of the last month. When I asked them if they were mad at me two weeks ago, they replied with, “I don’t know.” This seemed cryptic and when I asked what this was supposed to mean they said, “something you said is bothering me and I don’t know if it’s me being overly sensitive or if it’s your personality.” Uhm, okay… my personality??!! Seriously? We’ve been friends for how long and you are basically telling me that my personality bothers you? Okay… that’s fine. I’m one of those people who you either like or you don’t. I understand that, but after all these years you tell me it’s bothering you? I asked what it was that I said that was so bothersome and they didn’t tell me. I asked several times with no response and I let it go. I didn’t hear anything until I sent another text about a week ago asking if they were still mad for an unknown reason and we hadn’t spoken in a month. They then proceeded to tell me that they were intentionally avoiding me because of what I said. They STILL hadn’t told me what I said that bothered them. It finally came out. I made a comment about how I thought big girls were harder to kidnap because they put up a fight and their size makes it more difficult. I think this is funny. I’ve always felt this way and it was a general comment. I would never, ever make a comment like this directed at someone who was overweight, especially someone I care about. This person took it personally and I’m pretty confused as to how. I thought this person had a thick skin and didn’t let things like this get to them? I guess I was wrong and I struck a nerve. It was unintentional. I apologized several times. They said that if this was part of me “getting my confidence back and my personality” then they didn’t want to be around it. They also listed two quotations of something similar to what I said but not exactly. I didn’t know how to take this. Initially I thought, “you bitch! You think I’m one of those bitches we hate. Who do you think I am?! I never said that!” I knew I shouldn’t respond right away, because it would spark an argument so I thought about it. I thought a lot about it and thought what EXACTLY did I say and why did it hurt this person so badly? Enough to the point they didn’t want to see me anymore?

I remember years ago, when I lived with the former roomie, we had a discussion about perception. You can say or do something with a specific intent and someone else may take it in a totally different way. That’s what happened here, in a way. Like I said in a previous blog, when I say things that my brain doesn’t see as hurtful, like, “will you still love me when I get skinny,” I don’t see that it could POTENTIALLY hurt someone’s feelings, intentional or not. It just comes out because I don’t tend to censor myself, especially around my friends. In the long run I start to second guess this. I think before I speak (usually) but maybe I should just avoid some topics all together? In another past blog I mentioned a former coworker that was a very large person and I was about the size I am now and I made a comment about weight. Not knowing my background, that person didn’t know I had lost a significant amount of weight so they thought I was just being rude. I thought one way and had one intent and the other party didn’t see it the same way. How do you change this? How do you make sure your point is made the way you want it to be made? It’s easy for me… or so I thought… I’m a straight shooter. I mean what I say and say what I mean so if you try to read too much into me, it will throw you off, because I’m pretty straight forward. People try to “understand” what I’m trying to say instead of actually listening to me. So when I’m talking about people not trying to kidnap big girls, if your name or the word “you” isn’t in the sentence that is coming out of my mouth, then it probably isn’t about you, so don’t make it about you.

In responding to this friend, I told them that I was sorry if they heard it the way they told me in the message but I knew that wasn’t a direct quote from me. I told them that I cared a lot about them and that I loved them and they needed to do what’s best for them and their life and if that means not seeing me, then I understand. I told them that I recently came back around to the “someone will always be pissed off mentality” of life and I can’t worry about making other people happy. I have to worry about me and my life and if they were going to be offended by me speaking about my life and my experiences, then I was sorry. I said some may find it selfish but it’s my life. They mentioned “ever since my weightloss” I was saying hurtful things. I told them that I had lost 30-40 pounds since the beginning of they year and that my life has changed more than I ever thought it would this year. It’s not like this happened over night. This person also mentioned how they have been nothing but supportive of me and they didn’t know why I kept saying things like this. I don’t see this person as supportive. I never felt supported and I really don’t now. I didn’t know how this person really felt about my weightloss until I said something about it. I don’t need my ego stroked. I don’t need anyone to tell me they’re proud of me. I’m not saying I don’t like it, I’m saying I don’t need that. It’s not what I look for. I’m not a compliment hunter. I know what I’ve done. I wanted a different life. I knew I was the only one who would do it and I did it. My life continues to evolve as time goes on and I feel like this person feels left behind. The Boyfriend asked if we could fix them. My answer was, “no. They have to do it themselves. I have tried talking to them about it but I can’t do it for them.” I know how it feels to get “left behind.” I felt that way when Bestie joined the Army and when she found her hubby. I haven’t felt like that for a very long time, but I can relate. You have to want to get out of it. You are the only one who can change it.

Life is too short to worry about what other people think. We live in ‘Merica and we have all the rights in the world. Don’t like my blog? No one has a gun to your head telling you to must read it. Don’t like your job? Don’t like your family? Don’t like your friends? Don’t like yourself? YOU are able to change it all. YOU are the only one who can do it. Others can help you if you ask for it. Some people will step up and really help more than anyone else ever has. You have to be the one to take charge. Someone helping too much? Change it. Don’t project onto other people because you’re unhappy. YOU are LITERALLY the ONLY person on the face of this planet to change your life. I’m still working on it. It’s a process but if you work for it, good things will happen. You have to trust in the universe or God or Sweet  Baby Jesus or whatever it is that you believe in that things will happen and it will get better. It gets frustrating and it takes time but you have to have faith that it will happen. Something I used to say a lot was, “if this is as bad as it gets, it has to get better.” It does get better, but only if you want it to.

Beginning the next chapter

So my last blog was really heavy. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. It’s life. We all have those days. It’s about taking something from them and learning and growing. It’s how we evolve as people. It’s what makes us stronger. Of the people I wrote about in the last blog, I know a few that have lost everything in the storm. It’s devastating to know that. I pray for their strength to move on and stay strong and rebuild. Everyone is safe and alive and that’s the most important.

It’s amazing how quickly life can change. I mean I can’t say it enough, I feel like a different person. I feel amazing. I know I have a way to go with my weight loss, but as far as emotionally and mentally, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I’ve weeded out the negative people in my life. I have those close to me who I care for very deeply and those people mean more to me than they will ever, ever know.

Two years ago my coworker suffered a heart attack at work. Two years before that a close friend attempted suicide. These two people are two of my closest friends today and I can’t imagine life without them. It’s a wakeup call to them but also to those they know. Life will always have its terrible moments. It’s growing from that that makes life better. I learned with both of those instances that life is way too short and you need to appreciate the people you care about. Never be afraid to say I love you. If I love you, I’m going to tell you. If you make me happy, I’m going to tell you. On the other hand, if I have a problem, I’m going to tell you that also.

Those of you who know me know I don’t sugar coat very well. It’s annoying to me. I have had to say some really painful things in the past year to people I love, and I loved them in different ways; Painful to me and painful for them to hear. In one situation it helped. Not at first, but it ended up helping. In the other situation the other person was so resistant to hearing the truth they ignored it all together. I did what I could and it didn’t work. I had to walk away from that person. Don’t ignore me. I’m not wasting my words on anyone who has their hands over their ears saying “la la la la la.” No, thank you. I’m getting to a point… hang in there.

Now… this is all really important for any relationship to work. Sometimes a relationship seems so easy it really makes you think, “What’s wrong? What’s the trick?” You really question everything you’ve ever known in a relationship. You feel confused because it’s nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before. In the past you may have been involved with someone who wanted to play the “on-my-time” game. Maybe someone didn’t want to know certain things about you. Maybe they didn’t want to know certain parts of your life like your friends, family, or career. They wanted to say it was serious but not really be serious. That’s a good way to eff with someone. Men and women both play too many games. It screws everyone up. We’re all damaged in some way, some a lot more than others. The only way to get undamaged (I know, not proper English), is to get help. Whether that’s a professional or someone you can relate to or someone who can’t relate but is a good listener. Sometimes it’s none of the above. People can come out of nowhere at times when you least expect it.

I feel like my universe is lining up. The annual Halloween Party I’ve been attending for the last four years is always an amazing time. I’ve met some great people. It’s a tradition at this point so as long as the party survives, I will attend. Four years ago I met a guy wearing a tuxedo. I kid you not. These guests go all out for Halloween. I don’t remember any conversation from that party. Time goes on. The guy in the tuxedo was a proctologist this year. I have talked to him at other parties we’ve been to, but something about the encounter in the garage struck me this year. There we were with Michael Jackson, Garth Brooks, a monster… I can’t even remember what he said, and I didn’t have any idea that I would feel the way I do today just a short week ago. Something in me felt different. It was a slow burn. He left without saying goodbye. His annual appearance was over. I’ll see him next year.

I went home and added him on Facebook. Why now after four years? For the life of me couldn’t rememberhis first name. I looked on a mutual friend’s page. There he is. I knew the last name was right… The first name seemed way off but it had to be him. Add friend. Done. A little later the friend request was confirmed. I check out his page. There’s nothing there. Buh. You don’t want to delete someone you just added because that’s jerky so you just have another empty Facebook friend. Or so you think.

*bing* A Facebook message from Mr. Tuxedo himself on Monday. “The doctor will see you now…” I knew this guy was funny so let’s see what we have. I was expecting to see everything I had seen before from other guys. Wrong. He was kind, charming, polite. I was being a total goofball thinking, “How long will he stick to his schtick?” I was just thrilled that he had messaged me. We begin texting. Then a three hour phone call. Thank God he has Verizon. After the call there was the, “I can’t believe we talked that long, I hate talking on the phone,” text. He asked me out for football and pink drinks at his favorite bar (because that totally sounds like Blaire, right?). Only because it was with the proctologist I said yes. I would have done community service with him if he asked me to. It was an unusual feeling. I had already met him several times and spent time with him at the parties. It was not a blind date where I would try to inevitably screw it all up and not end up going. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him and see what he was about. Get to know him.

I’m so glad I did. I’ve seen him every day for the last 5 days. Tomorrow will be six. The journey will be an interesting one. It’s crazy how busy two people can actually be when they start dating… well I guess that’s what I get with a social butterfly. Before him I wouldn’t want to go out. There’s so much about him that I enjoy. Using the term “us” and “we” is very strange. He’s very open and honest and my fiends like him, which is huge.

I’m not jumping to any conclusions and I’m not going to be one to air dirty or clean laundry on here. That’s not what this is for. I’m actually fairly private about friends for the most part. The purpose of me talking about him is that as my life continues to change and I continue to become the best person I know how to be, I will have experiences and feelings to share. I already feel so different. I’m a little gun shy from what happened earlier in the year, but unlike in the past, I’m not going to let that hold me back. I can’t. It’s too late now to hold back. I’ve already committed to him. Literally. =>;

I can’t wait to write this chapter in my life.

Just because I don’t look fat doesn’t mean anything.

I apologize for not writing in more than a week. I looked back at August and September and the numbers are dramatically different. I guess I had a lot to say in August. September was busy with the wedding so I’m hoping October will allow me to get into a writing pattern so you can all know when to expect a blog. Thanks for reading! On a side note: where on Earth did September go?! I can’t believe it’s October!

I sent this picture to several friends tonight.

I don’t send pictures for people to tell me how good I look. Anyone who knows me, knows flattery doesn’t really do much for me. I can take a compliment, but I am not one to look for them. At. All. I know I look better now than I did and I share my photos so people can sort of see the transformation I have gone through. I don’t put them on Facebook for fear that people will get sick of all of my pictures of myself… so I will float the occasional one out there, on Instagam and on here. I will text specific people to share if I want to.

Tonight I received a response I haven’t received before and I wasn’t expecting, especially from the person who sent it. I’m not upset by it necessarily, but it isn’t sitting well with me. The response was, “Is that all you do these days? lol before and afters” Some of you may take this differently than I did, but with my intuition, I immediately knew the tone that was taken with this message. I also immediately felt defensive. My response was, “Only when I have a good after.” This person continued to tell me that they think I should phase out the before and focus on the after. I asked why and explained that I like to remember where I came from so I don’t get back to that point. This person sees weight loss differently than I do. They don’t think it’s good to keep looking back, where I think it’s great motivation to keep going. This person thinks I’m focusing on my past too much. I don’t see it that way at all. I take a lot of pride in my progress, more now than ever. If it was the difference of one size or 20 pounds, I can see how that may be “silly” to be looking at before and afters but 3-4 sizes down and almost 90 pounds is a HUGE difference and in my opinion it’s worth sharing and looking at.

I don’t know what I’m feeling right now with this person basically challenging me on how I see myself. They weren’t rude about it but it’s the principle of basically telling me how to view or not view myself. I don’t know if I’m offended or pissed off or what. I just know I’m not happy about it. I have known this person for several years and we are nothing more than friends. We talk about the basic day-to-day stuff. A lot about food, work, weekend plans. We don’t spend time together and I haven’t seen them since 2008. This person has been on their journey to weight loss for a while now. I told them I understood what they were saying.

They then sent a message that said “It’s been a long time since I actually liked pictures of myself.” I responded, “I know that feeling. I was dreading pics for Christine’s wedding because I’ve always hated seeing myself in pics or my reflection. I’m still surprised at what I see now.” The conversation was over. Now, after reading it back I can see how when I was 300+ pounds (this person isn’t that large, but overweight) that would have pissed me off. Like, shut up about it already.

It took me back to when I worked at Home Depot and I said something to a very large coworker and I was probably the size I am now. That coworker didn’t know that I was previously much larger than I was at that point. I think they thought I was just making a snarky comment about their weight. I have always felt bad about that and it was probably 8 or 9 years ago, I don’t remember what I said or how they responded, all I remember was where I was standing and the feeling I got from that person. I was trying to relate to my friend tonight, because I REALLY can relate to not being happy with pictures of yourself. This is another event I will probably remember in 9 more years. *insert foot in mouth*

It’s not my intent to make anyone feel bad about their weight. If what I say makes you mad, I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to “rub it in” or point it out. I wonder if this is what it feels like when new parents do nothing but talk about their stupid kids… I don’t talk about my weight loss all the time. Evidently it sneaks into conversations that make people uncomfortable. I can’t think that far ahead in my mind for what I’m about to say and think about who I’m saying it to and not say it, like, “…I’m still surprised at what I see…” My brain doesn’t recognize that as hurtful so if comes out of my mouth (or fingers). Then someone gets hurt or feels uncomfortable. This is why I feel like your friends change with weight loss. I experienced this before. Your best friends will be there no matter what, but I feel like the majority of people don’t know how to handle weight loss, especially if they struggle with their own weight. I know when I was larger I probably would have been insecure with a friend losing weight, constantly wishing I could lose weight too, envying them and if they constantly sent me freaking pictures of themselves I would encourage them and never say anything negative, but I know deep down inside I would feel bad about myself.

I have to remember this going forward.

The difference two years makes…

The Bestie finally had her wedding this past weekend. I knew several people there and most of them had this as their first impression of me.

July 2010 — Effing awful. Embarrassing.

I got to spend some time with some wonderful people. It’s amazing that the human brain remembers someone based on a certain memory. This was the memory they had of me… I had certain memories of specific people and I was apprehensive about spending time with these people based on that. It turned out to be very nice. I have changed an enormous amount over the last two years. I would hate for anyone to continue to judge me based on how I looked or acted two or more years ago, because God knows I was a walking hot mess for several years! I was just as open to seeing how the others have changed in their two years. That’s why it is so difficult to get along with some people, because they can’t move past a specific point in THEIR life to see how someone else has grown and appreciate them for who they are NOW.

The last wedding I was in was in October 2010. I was right around 275 pounds. The dress was a size 22 and it was tight. I actually really liked it from day one. The bride’s mom made us little black jackets so we could stay warm. I remember thinking there is no way I was going to wear that dress without something covering my fat arms. I was so nervous about that wedding. I was the Best Man. I was going to be in all the pictures. I knew I was the biggest one in the wedding party. I was really self conscious. I didn’t want everyone to be looking at the bride and groom and be distracted by how large I was. I hated my smile because my face was so big, my smile seemed to get lost in my cheeks. I remember thinking I didn’t want to ruin their wedding pictures. I never said anything to anyone, ever. This is the first time I’ve actually said any of this “out loud.” I didn’t even want to see myself in the pictures. You may think I sound terribly selfish right now. I beg to differ. I’m simply explaining how I felt at the time. I remember thinking, “don’t fall. The Man of Honor is smaller than you and you’ll pull him right over.”

I realized on Friday night how far I’ve come since then. I was talking with a bridesmaid and Bestie and I was telling the bridesmaid how I was in such a bad place mentally in my life and only recently came out of it. Not being happy with your appearance really makes a huge impact on how you feel in general. At least for me it did. I wasn’t happy with me so I wasn’t happy with anything really. I remember blaming it on the fact I was single and no one wanted to date me. Well Jesus, who would?! I am finally feeling more comfortable in my skin. Like I told the bridesmaid, I feel like I’ve gone through a total transformation and I’m a different person now. I mean, I moved away and back, gained a ton of weight, my Bestie went off to the Army which was difficult and depressing and when she came back, I had lost control.

So now there’s her wedding. If you’re one of my followers, you know the dress story. I’m going to tell it again. In October of last year she picked her dress and ours. Hers was stunning. We tried on three different dresses. I really REALLY hated one of them. The other girls loved it. Of course it’s the one she picked. I was so upset about it, but I thought, “It’s not your wedding, it’s hers. She gets what she wants. Keep your mouth shut.” I didn’t say anything. We were standing at the register as she was paying and she knew something was wrong. She asked. I said “nothing” and she gave me the look. I quietly told her I really didn’t like the dress but it didn’t matter. She understood. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, it was her wedding. In that moment, I knew I had to do something to look better in that dress. I think what ultimately threw me off was the putrid green color of the floor sample… and it was falling apart. I was also a size 20. There came a day where I had to make a decision. Now depending on who you talk to, I ordered the dress from two to four sizes too small. I was a size 20. I ordered a size 16. That’s two sizes. That’s a big challenge, but I had to do it. I got the dress in March. It didn’t fit. I still wasn’t a fan. When the dress zipped was when I started liking it. That was in August. Now that I see the pictures, I actually really like it a lot. I wouldn’t say love, but it’s definitely far from hate. It was a journey getting that dress to zip. I’m so proud of myself.

Close to full body shots…

It felt amazing to hear people tell me how great I look. I know they aren’t lying to me or trying to make me feel good. I know some people walked right by me and had no idea who I was, even though they know me. I know one guest has lost A LOT of weight and I’ve seen her pictures, but to see her in person was COMPLETELY different! I assume that’s exactly how it felt for everyone else seeing me for the first time in a really long time.

People also came up to talk to me about my speech. I’m not one to get nervous with public speaking so I was fine. I was just concerned about holding it together long enough to get it all out. I have included it below for those of you who want to read it. It was a great feeling to know it touched so many people. I feel like I’m really starting to see who I really am. That may not make any sense but it does to me. I feel like I’m not living in a cloud any more.

First I would like to welcome home everyone who has recently returned to the States. I also want to thank you all for your service.

We’ve been friends for what seems like 6 of the fastest years of my life. I remember the exact moment we clicked. We hated each other at the beginning. She was coming back to a store that she originally set up and I took over. Territorial and proud, we started working at the service desk together, uncharted territory for her and I was finally feeling comfortable. I remember suggesting how to do something. It was apparently unwelcome and she replied, “if I need your help, I’ll ask for it!” from that moment on we were like macaroni and cheese. Someone once told us, “I never see one of you without the other far behind.”

so much has happened as we’ve grown into the amazing people we are today. I moved away and back. She joined the army, went to basic, AIT, Iraq, and then school. She met a guy while deployed, they got engaged, he went to Afghanistan, she graduated, and here we are. That’s a crazy amount of stuff to go through with someone in six years.

We’ve been through two deployments. She called me her army wife. I called her my soldier. Now shes the army wife and she has her own soldier. We’re closer now than we ever have been. As strange as it may sound, even though we rarely spoke, I feel closer to Brian after this deployment. At one point he sent me a message and thanked me for being here for Christine. I never thought of the impact I had on his life by being here for her. I’m grateful for both of you.

I’ll never understand the bond of soldiers because I’m just a civilian. When Christine told me it was different with Brian, it just felt right on every level, there was no reason for me to question her or her judgement. I knew she found the one.

We’ve been through the near and the far, the good and the bad, the thick and the thin. I’m so excited to see what the future has in store for you both and watch you grow old and gray. I’m so lucky God didn’t bless me with a sister so I could choose my own.

*grab glass*

To Brian and Christine- Cherish the life you have together and remember to live well, laugh often, and love much. I love you.

Can I just say, I really do love and respect our soldiers. I’m accepting applications. Kidding aside, I would love to be an Army Wife.

Photo on Left: the last wedding I was in. I was the Best Man to my best guy friend
Photo on Right: the wedding this weekend. Maid of Honor for my best girl friend

Proof those jeans really did fit at some point

What has society done to us?

Instagram has been consuming a lot of my time recently. More than it should but I see so much on there to read or look at. I find people who need support, I find people who have tons of support, I find girls who need support of a different kind and there are too many of the wrong people supporting them. I find inspiration for myself. It’s amazing what one app can do to change your life. It sounds a bit far fetched, but it’s true. It hasn’t changed my life, but you know some of those people need their followers to keep it going.

There are a few things I want to talk about tonight. What is true inspiration? What has society done to girls? What about the naysayers or people who can’t support you? Can you be judged for eating right?

When people used to tell me I was an inspiration I pretty much blew them off. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m going to say it again. People of all shapes and sizes told me I was an inspiration to them. I didn’t see it. I still have a difficult time with it but now I feel it more than ever. There are pictures on my new favorite virtual playground (Instagram) of people like me, who have lost 50+ pounds. There are A LOT of us. Then I see people who are like a size 4 who lose five pounds and others comment on their pictures that they’re “so inspirational.” This REALLY helped it click for me. I actually feel insulted by that. I don’t mean to take away someone else’s success, but for someone to say that five pounds is inspirational blows me away. Five pounds is one big dump to some people out there… How about almost 100 pounds? Or how about MORE than 100 pounds? Or what about those that finally got the strength to begin their journey and have more than 100 pounds to lose? These people are inspirations. Anyone can lose five pounds. Not everyone can lose half of their original body weight… Inspiration is all about what pushes you to make a change for yourself or feel a certain way. I’m blessed and grateful for the people who have reached out to me to express their gratitude for helping motivate them.

There is the other extreme on there though, which actually makes me incredibly sad for the future of our young women (and even men) in the world. They’re so brain washed to think that having your hip bones stick out is the way to be. Or to be able to wrap your hands around your thighs. Or to have a “thigh gap” or boney shoulders or a visible spine or ribcage… These girls post under #weightloss but also under #bulimic and #anorexic.  They post grotesque pictures of sickly thin girls who are malnourished, that have dingy hair and gray skin and think it’s attractive and they strive for that “perfection.” One girl posted words that said something like “food is bad for me.” I posted that bad food is bad for you. Apparently she had binged and was feeling fat and guilty. When I read her profile she had that she was 130 pounds and her goal weight was 97 pounds. She was really thin. She twisted her body to show her hips in the pictures. I thought back to a girl I went to high school with and she told me she was bulimic and I told her how thin she was and she said that was like calling a fat person fat. I never thought of it this way. Their brains are wired differently. They need love, support and guidance. They need to know what healthy really is and how to get to that point in their lives. We see models in magazines and TV personalities, and we’re made to feel like we’re huge when they’re tiny. I’m a size 16 now. I plan on being at least a 12. I am now the size of an “average” American woman and I still feel huge. Why do I feel like this? Why do 15 year old girls who aren’t physically mature feel like they’re not pretty or skinny enough?

I have encountered people in my life that don’t have it in them to be supportive of the decisions I’m making. I don’t expect everyone to be “on my side.” I don’t care. I know who my true friends are. I know the people that really matter. I am much stronger than the naysayers. I have the ability to say no to a patty melt or doughnut. When I am ready, I will decide what I eat. Those people think, “What’s one doughnut going to hurt? What’s one piece of candy?” Okay, well take something you REALLY like and say no to it when someone puts it in front of you. A glass of wine, a piece of cake, pretzels, popcorn, beer… try it sometime. Then the person offering will tell you to take it, that it’s okay, and you know you can’t for your own good. If you don’t have a medical reason to back you up, it’s even harder. No one is really going to force a diabetic to eat cubes of sugar, but if you’re not a diabetic, what’s your excuse? Your own health? Your own determination? Your own promise to yourself? That’s not good enough to some people. Yes, this can be discouraging, but to know you have the strength to be true to yourself is your power. Someone I work/worked with one time made a comment about why my back may have been hurting (even though I wasn’t complaining of any pain), implying it was because of my weight. I will never in my life forget this. At that time I was my heaviest and I was gobsmacked that someone would actually say that to me, in front of someone else, no less. I felt extremely hurt by this and I know that person has no idea they did it. To make a negative comment about someone’s weight is, I think, one of the worst things you can actually say to a person, especially if the person making the comment has never had a weight problem. Now that I’m losing weight, the naysayers can EAT their words and kiss my ass because it doesn’t matter what you think. You’re meaningless in my big picture and will only be a blip in my memory some day. Don’t judge me for wanting to make myself a better person and then actually following through.

These pants fit me at one point (in 2009-2010). They’re a size 22. Do you think they make my butt look big?

Don’t Do Too Much Damage…

So I’m back from California. I had a wonderful time and I enjoyed some great food while I was there. As difficult as it was to stay on track I had some wonderful support.

As I said in a previous blog, before I left Ohio, my grandma asked me about what I’m eating so she could make sure there was plenty of food I could eat. I had large salads, endless fruit, and beautifully cooked meat. I had limited carbs and sweets.

On Friday, Grandma made an “Irish Breakfast.” This consisted of Irish Soda Bread, SEVERAL different sausages, roasted tomatoes, eggs, and Guinness.  I had no interest in the sausages or eggs. I had a little soda bread and a big salad and a beer. I haven’t had beer in God knows how long and I probably won’t have another one for some time. I felt so awful after drinking it. I love Guinness, it’s one of my favorites, but after that, I felt bloated and gross. It tasted good and it was only 125 calories, but I don’t know if it was worth it.

Friday night we went to Marin Joe’s for dinner with my aunt and uncle. I haven’t seen my aunt since 2004 and I saw my uncle in December of last year. The very first thing they told me was I inspired them to get a Wii and be more active. I was not expecting this (I suppose the magnitude of this blog still hasn’t set in yet). I was happy to hear that I helped motivate someone to be more active. My aunt was telling me about the positive affects she’s noticed from the yoga she’s doing. I’m thrilled I was able to have this impact.

As I explained to my uncle, I’m doing this blog for myself. I know people are interested in my journey and what I’m doing, so that’s why I share it, but I’m doing it so I can look back in two or five years and see where I was and what I was thinking and the issues I was dealing with. Knowing the way I write and my memory, this blog will take me right back to this time in my life. I didn’t document the first 87 pounds and I don’t know if it was a struggle or what I was going through. I just blindly did it and I wish I was able to go back and reflect on how far I’ve come. All I have really, is a number on a scale. Something else I told him was I don’t know who reads this unless you tell me. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter because I do it for me, not to be popular, or have the most hits on Google, but it is always fun to hear what people have to say or just know who is following it.

Back to dinner on Friday… I didn’t drink any alcohol. I feel like I’d much rather eat my calories than drink them (at this point). I thought what better time to cheat than for dinner that night. I was really torn about what to get, but I knew I wanted pasta. Mmmmmm… pasta. So after much deliberation, I decided on the lasagna with a side salad. There was some delicious sourdough that I indulged in, too. I had half of my lasagna and my salad and I split a strange desert with Grandma. I also tried liver for the first, and last, time.

In preparation for a family party on Saturday, Grandma made me a large salad that we took with us. As you can imagine, family parties normally don’t have salads. She didn’t want me to feel like there was nothing for me to eat, so she made me something special. I didn’t actually eat it until we got home, but it was nice to know I had it there if I wanted it.

There was gorgeous fresh bread, yummy grilled sausages, a couple different salads, and a ton of dessert. Two family members told me about what they brought and what was in it and expressed to me that it should “be safe to eat.” One was baby crust-less veggie quiche and the other was a tomato cucumber salad with basil. Both were delicious. When these two family members made sure to tell me what was in their dishes, it made me feel… I can’t even describe it. I felt like these people care so much to tell me what is in their dishes, because they know what I’m doing and what I’m eating. I didn’t feel like they made me something special… not at all. It was just touching to know they made a point to tell me and for that, I am very grateful. I didn’t expect any special treatment and I didn’t expect anyone in the family to know, but it meant a lot to know they care. Grandma made spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. I had half of one and a little sliver of some little cake with two raspberries on it. I normally don’t eat at these types of functions, so I did just fine.

Saturday night I had a big salad and the rest of my lasagna. I’m not sure why, but I felt guilty for eating my leftovers. I expressed this to Grandma and Mom and they told me I shouldn’t feel that way, especially since I had been doing so well. I am blessed to not feel guilt after eating but for some reason, I did. I felt like I already had my cheat day and I wasn’t allowed to have another. I thought, “why do I feel this way? Why am I letting the food control me like this? Why do I feel obsessed?” I don’t know. I don’t like it because I feel like it’s bad to let food control you in any way, good or bad. It’s all I seem to think about. I feel borderline judgmental if I eat something “bad.” UGH! It’s possessing me. I’m sure I’ll mellow out at some point (probably after the wedding), but for now it’s critical I stay on track.

Sunday we went to Alcatraz. It was pretty amazing. We didn’t have a lot of time so we only went to the cell house on the audio tour. They tell you on their website to wear comfortable shoes because there are some steep hills. They weren’t kidding! To get to the cell house you have to go up 4 hills. These hills were at least a 30 degree incline. I walked with my brother and my grandparents and mom took the tram. My brother is several inches taller than I am and was zipping ahead of me up the hill. I made it up the first one with no issues. Up the second one at a good clip. When I hit the third one I started to sweat and get out of breath. I was wearing a hat, jeans, 3/4 length shirt and hoodie. We got to the top of number three and I had to stop to put my hair up and take off my sweatshirt. I was able to catch my breath quickly as I took some pictures before we headed up the last hill. We were ahead of most of the people we started out in the group with. I felt great being able to get up the hill without feeling like I was going to die. The tour was 45 minutes and took you all over the cell house. We went up and down a few staircases. I was really proud of myself for being able to get up the stairs without getting winded. Back in the day, I would get winded walking up to my apartment. When we were done we walked back down the hill and waited for everyone else to catch up. There was SO much we didn’t see and I can’t wait to go back!

After Alcatraz, my bro had a flight to catch, so we were off to the airport. After the airport we met up with one of Mom’s cousins and two of her daughters in the city for lunch. We went to a place called Mel’s Drive-In and apparently it’s been around for decades. It was a cute little place with a counter and old vinyl booths. I was feeling unruly so I knew my blood sugar was really low. I normally don’t drink orange juice but I knew it would be the fastest way to get my sugars up to where I was sociable again. I ordered a small OJ and a grilled salmon salad. Everyone else ordered patty melts or BLTs. It’s kind of weird, I didn’t even think to order something like that. When my OJ showed up, it was the color of Hi-C or Sunny-D. I thought (in my grumpy state of mind), “seriously?! I wanted ORANGE JUICE… not FAUX OJ!” So I took a sip. It was like the sun exploded in my mouth. Now, let me explain something. In Ohio, our oranges tend to be a bit on the bland or tart side; The juice ends up on the yellow end of the color spectrum. Even the boxed juice tastes “off.” This was THE best orange juice I have ever, EVER had in my life. It was fresh squeezed. I sucked it down like my life depended on it. The color was just a great reflection on what it should taste like. I don’t think I will ever forget that. If all orange juice tasted like this, I would be a fan, but sadly, they don’t, so I’m not. My salad was incredible with sprouts, cucumbers, mango salsa, and a tasty house dressing.

Earlier I said I felt judgmental about food. I felt this way when I was at the diner. Not with my family, but they guy at the table across from us. He had a milkshake, Coke, burger and fries. I remembered a time in my life when I used to eat like that. I remembered being able to out eat my ex-boyfriend who was 6’5″ and 250 pounds. I could slam a double Whopper, large fry, and large shake from Burger King (boy, a Whopper sounds good)… Now I would be so sick if I got even half of that down.

Monday night Grandma made chicken, tomato salad, and corn on the cob. Grandpa has a huge garden with tons of tomatoes, an apple tree, a green bean bush or tree or whatever it was, and yes, even corn. We had the first pick of the season for the corn. I have never, ever had such “meaty” corn. Seriously, you took a bite off the cob and it was a mouth full. Not like the wimpy corn we have here. I loaded up on corn and tomatoes and had a chicken breast and thigh. I was starving. It was the most I had eaten all week at one time. I was stuffed by the end of dinner, but I knew I was eating good food so I felt okay with being so full. I knew I only had one meal left after dinner and before we left, so I loaded up.

Travel days are always difficult because you’re stuck in an airport all day where a banana costs $3.00 but you’ll pay for it because you want that banana. Before we left, I had a big salad and a tomato sandwich for breakfast. The tomatoes were juicy and ripe, with some mayo on fresh bread. OMG it was so good. Grandma packed one for Mom, but I wanted mine before I left. I purchased some chocolate before we left San Francisco. I didn’t care if I was cheating. I was going to be walking in airports and whatnot, so I didn’t feel bad. I knew when we got to Minneapolis I needed to eat something. The question was, what? We walked into a little mini mart that had some yogurt with granola cups that were a reasonable size and some decent looking sandwiches. I got one of each and it was more than $15. I could have eaten Combos and a Coke for half the price, but I knew I needed something halfway healthy to keep me going. It was worth the $15 I paid for it to not feel like I lost control. I’m not saying I didn’t want to eat junk, but I knew I had to make a better decision.

All in all, I gained less than half of a pound and I feel pretty damn good about that. I could have done a lot more damage but I CHOSE not to.